<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Lost in Translation by nagaknows</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29178435">Lost in Translation</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/nagaknows/pseuds/nagaknows'>nagaknows</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Dystopia, F/M, Family</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 12:53:37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,389</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29178435</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/nagaknows/pseuds/nagaknows</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The choice for mankind lies between freedom and happiness and for the great bulk of mankind, happiness is better<br/>-George Orwell</p><p>Discovers Armin and Annie with Zofia, as their lovechild, in the alternate universe of dystopian world.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Armin Arlert/Annie Leonhart</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“You may now proceed to the room no.2AB.”<br/>
That voice alone was enough to send the grey-haired men to perspiration. He swallowed his saliva several times to the point he couldn’t count the number of times he had done that. As he walked through the alley along with the two guards behind him, his eyes scanned the view in front of him while still lowering his head. Some cell doors had been passed. Each door lied certain numbers that contained abortive salvation for those who turned their back from the laws. The only visible sounds in that place were their footsteps, clanging sound of irons and chains, and other muffled sounds he couldn’t tell what they were. There was barely any sunlight that came through the place, at least to warm up the frigid atmosphere. Hands clamped together forming a sweat, waiting for the apostle of death to embrace his vulnerable being.<br/>
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------<br/>
Birds chirped outside the window, serenading the morning soon to be slipped by. Morning dew on the leaves slowly tumbled while waiting for the gravity to entirely affiliate them with the ground beneath. The sun awakened from the hollowness of the midnight horizon, ready to cast the town with its luminescent glow. Over the window, the kitchen was bathed in golden light. Armin eagerly unlocked the window to let the mild breeze, in which the morning held, entering the room. He interlaced his fingers as he stretched the weariness away from his body. Inhaled, exhaled. A relief sound after the stretch erupted in the kitchen.<br/>

“That was quite a loud noise you got there,” Armin jolted when he heard a female voice appeared from behind. His gesture turned, only to see his wife stepped into the kitchen along with their daughter. Shoulders relaxed from the tension that was eventually replaced by a blush of pink flared on both cheeks. Received teasing and innuendo from his wife was nothing particularly odd for him. Acknowledging the fact that he had been living with her for 10 years, he knew well how to “retaliate” against her. He made his approach to her and placed his lips dangerously close to her ears. “But not as loud as yours during our previous session, right?” Armin whispered while wearing his pride beneath his sleeves. Precise as a dart, the roles now had reversed. Her wife blushed 40 shades of red.<br/>
“I thought we’re going to forget that!” His wife stammered.<br/>
“How would I even forget if your voice pinned to my head oftentimes, Mrs. Annie Arlert?” Armin stated with a grimace grew on his lips.<br/>
“Ssshhh… we don’t want our girl to hear this,” Annie whispered intending to shush him before their discussion was progressively suggesting. Armin only nodded and replied with a simple ‘okay’ in return. Her footsteps brought her to the fridge to prepare today’s breakfast.<br/>

In the corner of the dining room, a small television was occupied. Television was supposedly known for entertainment and knowledge-absorption purposes. Nevertheless, the family didn’t bother to switch on the device. Even if the screen was vacant black, they were able to remember the repetitive sound and the visuals in their head: Nothing but the adoration for their “chosen ones”. Switched onto the next channel and you would see the oration of how to be a civilized citizen. One of the most Zofia despised from the oration was about how art was an illicit thing for the country. Yet, they put it on repeat every day like a never-ending loop. In the third switch, your eyes fell upon the systematic cordon of “Petro-bots” who practiced their march and things they did both as soldiers and inspectors. Another switch, you’d find a documentary movie about a grotesque view of transgressors were being executed. On some days it would be about the documentary of how outside countries assaulted their country, Bellbramp. Watching a show that was tinted all nothing but a monochrome shade of black and white only wasting their iris. Iris was not made for seeing dreary sight if nature and surroundings had variants of colors to see.<br/>

The silence between them was cracked when their daughter spoke up. “Mom, Dad, look at what Zofia made last night!” As she handed her sepia-tinted book (Zofia said it was her art journal) in front of them. They stared at the creation made by the gifted hands of Zofia. Every stroke of markers, scribbles of pencil, patches of unused fabrics and papers, dried flowers, and other things they couldn’t seem to identify what objects they had created a tight-knit harmony of an abstraction masterwork. Armin’s fingers began to trace and rub each complicated elements to immerse himself deeper through Zofia’s creation. He pleasantly sighed, thinking if only they had not been born in such a deleterious system.<br/>

“You’re doing great,” said Annie. She might not give people emotional reactions most of the time, but her eyes captivated her emotions precisely. Nonetheless, Zofia was still thankful for that.<br/>
“But remember, what I told you, Zofia,” said Armin with a warning tone beneath his voice.<br/>
“This journal will be the death of us,” Armin and Zofia stated the line simultaneously. She had been keeping the book and her parent’s promise for 4 years. The only people she trusted and gave them access to view her art journal were her parents.<br/>
“Armin, you’d better off to work. Zofia you too, don’t wanna be late for school.”</p><p>------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</p><p>	“We live in a world where numbers prove our worth because numbers are powerful. They are what make you the person you are right now. We don’t believe in creativity or other nonsense like that. Those things are for daydreamers that won’t do a thing for this country’s advancement. Such subjectivity can only cause chaos. However, if you want to choose death, you know that’s a way to do it, right? Your friend, Jeff, is the concrete evidence of his stupidity by making nonsense art. Look at him now, gone with the wind!”<br/>

‘Another day, another baloney indoctrination,’ thought Zofia as she twirled her pen while hearing her teacher’s so-called “speech”. Never once crossed in her mind to think how art was that useless when in reality, the infrastructure and other technologies would not have been existed in her country by now. Lucky enough, she became immune throughout the time listening to revelations. Her half-lidded eyes randomly scanned the classroom. Her urge to open the art journal was immense. Escaped into her own imagination was merely the paradise on this world. She did not have to spend a cent of money just to access the world of possibilities, because the world was accessible in her own mind only. She would have been killing the time by laying her hands on her precious journal. However, if she opened the journal by now, she could be a dead meat in no time.<br/>

Her thoughts were interrupted with the penetrating sound of the school bell. It was a sign that the class had ended. The teacher told the students to collect their assignments in the exercise book. Zofia handed hers to the teacher, followed by other students, and packed her things before heading to her home. On her way home, she could not eagerly wait for a long time just the thought of laying her hands on her art journal. There were gazillion amount of thoughts and emotions that were soon to be poured into a piece of paper.<br/>
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------<br/>
“I’m home!” Zofia shouted to know the people in the house that she came back. “Finally, you’re back. Let’s have dinner first, I just prepared your favorite food,” said Annie from the living room while approaching her. Though there was no presence of her dad, she was used to it due to the fact her dad came back home late. There were times her dad returned to their home in the next day. Though, the pattern became habitual, she admitted the lonesome sometimes haunted her, but what could they do if the corporate held the highest claim of the regulations of their workers?<br/>

Her eyes lit up when she saw her favorite red bean porridge was on the dining table. She could feel her stomach revolt inside, begging to be fed. During the dinner, she talked with Annie for god knows how many hours had passed. Engaging in a thought-provoking conversation with her mom had always been like a remedy to her, albeit about her tiresome school life.<br/>
“Don’t you ever get bored by the speeches?” Asked Annie whilst gulping down the mineral water.<br/>
“Always and has ever been.”<br/>
“That’s bad, …But it’s okay, I understand how irksome to experience that.”<br/>
“Yeah…. Lucky that I didn’t puke right in that place”<br/>
“Anyways, can I take another look your art journal?”<br/>
“Sure! That shouldn’t be a question though!”<br/>

Giggles of Zofia erupted in the dining room. In a middle of their conversation, the TV was automatically turned on, a sign that there was an urgent report from the reign. As they saw what was on the TV, the atmosphere became tensed abruptly. Eyes wide opened. The blood ran down rapidly in both veins. Both of them were frozen in the place. This was not what they expected.<br/>

“ATTENTION TO ALL THE BELLBRAMP CITIZENS, WE WOULD LIKE TO REPORT BAD  NEWS. TODAY, THERE WAS AN ODD STUFF THAT WAS FOUNDED IN THE RED SUN JUNIOR HIGH. THIS BROWN BOOK CONTAINED SUCH RUBBISH AND ENDANGERED THE LAW. BASED FROM THIS BOOK’S NAME INSIDE, IT IS OWNED BY ZOFIA. WE ARE SOLICITING THEM RIGHT NOW. THEREFORE, FOR THOSE WHO HAVE CAUGHT THEM ESCAPING, INFORM US. OR ELSE, DEATH PENALTY FOR FALSE INFORMATIONS AND FOR THOSE WHO RESIST TO TELL. THANK YOU AND BE A GOOD CITIZEN.”</p><p>To be continued.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“LONG LIVE BELLBRAMP! LONG LIVE THE CHOSEN ONES!” Voices that resembled a foghorn roaring in the outpatient hall. Gentlemen congregated together in front of the television roaring the yell as their souls enwrapped together in the patriotic affair. It was not something odd by the eyes of the beholders, judging by the blue pin that attached to their suits. Apparently, another opiate stage of politics each day soared the patriotics into cloud nine. The voices became muffled once they entered Armin’s office room wall. Armin’s focus was still glued onto the piece of medical paper. Fingers held and steered the pen as they created indecipherable handwriting. When he was a kid, his eyes gleaming at the medical paper which contained the perplexed handwriting of a doctor could not be comprehended by his limited perception. Each second passed and the future led him into the field where he had grown accustomed to the handwriting he once could not understand about.<br/>
After he had finished, he moved to his computer to accomplish another task. Previously black screen was replaced by a wallpaper of his small family on his home screen. A sigh slipped from his lips, thinking about his wife, his daughter, and his soon-to-be newborn son waited for him in the house. Ever since his 4 months old fetus made the appearance inside Annie’s womb, his desire to be at home had been swelling. He had to admit, being one of the best-ranked doctors left him feeling empty due to the 3 main responsibilities: the government, the corporate, and the patients. These responsibilities either brought him feeling burden or regret.<br/>
“Armin, it’s been 3 times I had a miscarriage, but this one….” Annie’s wobbling voice became shattered in a midst of the sentence as she ended up letting the tears spoke what couldn’t be unspoken with words. Armin embraced his wife while looking at his lifeless newborn kid on the bed. Heart was squeezed, leaving out the essence of misery. A lump of saliva formed inside his mouth, but he didn’t have the infinitesimal amount of power to swallow it. It was beyond their insights of how easy the life of their jolly ones was soon to be in the hands of death in just one night. “Don’t worry, it’s none of our faults. It’s beyond our capability too….” Said Armin, hoping his comfort words could ease the ponderosity of the grief. He wanted to let the tears astray down to his cheeks, but it would replenish the grief for both of them.<br/>
It happened last year, yet still managed to trace scars in his heart. Bearing both the experiences of 3 times of miscarriages and a perfectly newborn kid that later passed away the next night was arduous. It amazed him how his wife was able to endure those things. Now that they had the new one, he begged God to ensure his wife and the kid’s salvation. He rubbed away the small tear underneath his left eye and continued to work until a sudden call from his coworker interrupted his work.<br/>
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Silence filled the room, but it spoke louder. Zofia felt her limbs are all numb. Even though the silence covered her, but it spoke much louder than what was inside her head. She then checked inside her bag to make sure if that was not hers. Pages after pages had been examined, but none of them contained her scribbles and doodles. However, she saw the exercise book she was supposed to give to her teacher before. The exercise book had the same cover as her notebook cover. That was when she felt her carelessness led her to death. Her knees started to touch the ground. Her hands ran through her ash blonde hair. Her shoulders dropped and weakened. The truth was unbearable as if the time had stopped for a moment. ‘How about dad? What if he knew I just put all of us in doom?’ and other thoughts disordered her brain.

</p><p> The train of thoughts was dissolved when she felt a sudden tap on her shoulders. Her gaze fixed to her back and found out that Annie had changed the haircut. Her haircut resembled Zofia’s. Zofia’s eyes widened to see her.<br/>
“Don’t worry, let me take care of this.”<br/>
“What in the world are you doing?!”<br/>
“Listen here, I will be the one to face them, you can just go hide somewhere, don’t let them know where you are.”<br/>
“Mom, are you out of your mind??”<br/>
“Basically, that’s what we are right now.”<br/>
“But—"<br/>
“No buts, please hear me out, they might not know my real identity and if I can handle them, we could escape from this place. I’m not sure where, but I know a place near the forest outside of Bellbramp.”<br/>
“But…what about dad?”<br/>
A pause full of contemplation occurred. Annie didn’t have a pristine mind to actually think everything into one sequence of plot. Desperation and stress clouded Annie’s mind. They already walked on the fragile line. Putting details in each plan could consume much time before they had a chance to survive. She put both of her hands on Zofia’s shoulders and gave her a small encouraging smile.<br/>
“We will come back to get dad.”<br/>
In the end, Zofia only gave up and followed what her mom said to her. She was an expert to visualize her thoughts vividly. However, this circumstance she was in hindered her ability to do so. All she could think about right now was Annie and where to hide. The petro-bots might find her somewhere if she took cover in the most obvious place to hide. ‘I hope life is by our side right now,’ she thought while searching for the best place to hide. She stayed in her hiding place until everything was done. Until Annie was done encountering them to be precise. Until it was a green light for them to escape.<br/>
DING DONG!<br/>
That bell. She knew the guesses behind that door. It felt like betting for life and death. Heart rate increased when she heard the door was opened. Her palms were sweating as she clasped them together, hoping they won’t hear the shallow rapid breathing behind the cupboard. Her ears could hear the muffled conversation between the Petro-bots and Annie. Her mother’s voice repeatedly rang over her head. ‘Everything’s gonna be okay, everything’s gonna be alright.’ At least, that alone enough to calm her down. Time had passed, there was a long pause after the muffled voices she heard. She wanted to go out, but not until Annie came to her and told her it was a good sign to run away. There she was, folding her arms between her legs, all in her vulnerability. Her body jolted up when the door of the cupboard was opened. Her smile replaced her sorrowful face. She was ready to escape with Annie.<br/>
“Mom!”<br/>
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------</p><p>The man finally placed his feet in the said room. The room was painted all-white, in contrast to the outside. He was placed on the waiting seat which was facing the electric chair. He didn’t bear to see the execution of other prisoners before him, but that was the intention of the execution after all. With his eyes, he saw the guards compelled the girl to sit on the deadly chair. Beside him was a wide black-tinted window where the operations of the prosecution took place. Inside the room, he could see around 2 to 3 anonymous people in a white suit and dark-colored masks that sent him chills down his spine. The girl was all helpless, she couldn’t do anything with her tied arms and legs. Her head turned to the left side of the room where another window for the other cell resided. Suddenly, her eyes enlarged to see the view. Before she could process what was happening, the loud voice that came through the speaker spoke to her.<br/>
“No.9802, Zofia, is ready to be executed. Any last words before we start?”<br/>
Silence. She was gathering her courage to say that she wanted to talk with Annie, the woman behind the left side window. When she was ready to open her mouth, the shrill and painful scream was heard behind that window. Her eyes couldn’t believe that her mom, was tortured first by the electric chair. It should have been her. To repay the price of sins she had made. Her waterwork started to fall from her eyes. She wanted to scream in disbelief, but she was lost in translation. If only she had the chance to say sorry because she was failed to save both of them. Suddenly, the voice from the same speaker spoke to her again.<br/>
“I guess we take that as a no. Dr. Jack, you’re in charge to execute, you may now proceed.”<br/>
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</p><p>	Footsteps made their way past the hall to the secret operation room where experiments of biological and chemical welfare took place. The secret operation was only accessible for high-ranked doctors and the government. Armin and his co-worker walked side by side. Though he was walking fast, almost matching the pace with his friend beside him, he always felt reluctant to enter the room. He could ponder the chosen ones waited for their appearance by now. The next thing he would do was to dissect the bodies of prisoners into several parts for the sake of the experiment. The thought of it was enough to make his nose crinkle. As they were getting closer to the room, Armin asked his co-worker.<br/>
“How many the patients are?” No. Saying the prisoners as patients weren’t the best choice of words because they were already dead after execution. Nevertheless, he couldn’t bother to think about it.<br/>
“It says in the paper here, we got 3 patients….No.9801, 9812, and 9755.”<br/>
“What are they?”<br/>
“A pregnant woman, a teenage girl, and a middle-aged guy.”<br/>
As soon as they arrived, they were welcomed by the chosen ones like Armin had predicted before. They stepped inside the room and checked the patients. With utensils ready, Armin was bug-eyed to see the view in front of him. His countenance became paler. He almost fell on his knees and gripped both of his hands. He just wished it was his hallucination that deceived him. Maybe it was just his homesickness that made him saw things unclear. As he got closer, he still couldn’t believe it. With trembled voice, he uttered,<br/>
“Annie?? Zofia??” Waterworks from his left eye started to bubble.<br/>
“Annie…we haven’t made the name for him yet…”</p><p>END.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>